


Friday Night

by domokunrainbowkinz



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Bartender Victor Nikiforov, Crack, Drunk Everyone, Drunk Katsuki Yuuri, Drunk Phichit, Drunken Shenanigans, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, businessman yuuri, everyone is fuckin WASTED, yuuri has a white russian and then a White Russian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-29 19:07:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12091482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/domokunrainbowkinz/pseuds/domokunrainbowkinz
Summary: Yuuri gets drinks with his coworkers, with rumours of a hot bartender working that night. There's also a mechanical bull. Based on thisvideo.





	Friday Night

**Author's Note:**

> it's 2:30 am why the fuck did i write this

“Yuuri, we’re going out for drinks, you coming?”

He shrugged, walking into the elevator with his co-worker, Phichit. It was Friday night, and Yuuri was exhausted from all the paperwork and presentations he did that week.

Usually he’d hole himself in his apartment, curled up in nothing but his boxers as he ate a huge tub of ice-cream while marathoning Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure. Phichit always said he was anti-social, that he should get out more and see the world.

“I don’t know…I’m pretty tired,” Yuuri replied, the elevator stopping on the ground floor with a _ding_. They stepped out and walked to the glass exit of the tall office building. It was already quite dark, the chilly September air making Yuuri wrap his thin sweater tighter around his shoulders.

“Come _on_ Yuuri!” Phichit whined, tugging on his arm. “It’ll be fun! Guang-Hong, Leo and the Crispinos are going. I think they’re also bringing a friend too.”

“That’s…a lot of people.”

“Exactly! More people to meet,” Phichit said cheerfully as they walked to the bus-stop. “Also, the bartender that works tonight is supposed to be _super_ hot.”

“Right…” Yuuri mumbled. It wasn’t a mystery that Phichit had a matchmaking problem: he was always the first to know if someone got together, carefully documenting potential couples like some relationship detective. According to Phichit, it was a mystery that Yuuri was single, since apparently “anyone would _kill_ to have a piece of that ass.”

“A hot bartender Yuuri! Don’t you want to watch a beautiful man make you drinks?” Phichit asked.

“Well, you seem pretty excited about that. It’s fine if you go without me.”

“Yuuuuuri,” Phichit whined. “You need to have some fun.”

“I do have fun!”

“Spending Friday nights by yourself in front of a screen isn’t _fun_ ,” Phichit scolded, then his face softened. “You’ve had a pretty tough week, Yuuri. Just come, and if you _really_ don’t like it, I’ll take you home.”

Yuuri mulled over that thought. It probably wouldn’t hurt…and, he’d never admit this to Phichit, but he _was_ pretty curious about this “hot bartender” Phichit keeps talking about.

“I guess I’ll stick around for a bit…”

“NICE!” Phichit whooped, pumping his fist in the air. “The place isn’t far from here, it’s only a couple of stops.”

As they rode the bus, Yuuri couldn’t help but feel his life was at a turning point.

//

As always, Friday night was a busy night at the bar.

Victor lost count of how many drinks he made that night, how many flirty one-liners he threw at the customers that always resulted in tips. Of course, he did get a few glares from jealous lovers, but hey, a man needs to eat.

There was a giant mechanical bull in the middle of the establishment, flashing coloured lights painting it different colours. Victor honestly wasn’t sure what colour that bull is; it’s always different each time he looks at it. Since it was still early in the night, most people weren’t quite drunk yet, so the attempts of staying on the bull weren’t very interesting.

When most people _were_ drunk though…

Victor snuck a look at his phone. 6:40 pm. It was still pretty early in the night, but since it was a Friday, people tended to get drunk a lot earlier. Maybe to let loose, celebrate the weekend, forget about whatever they did that week.

Very often, Victor wished he had that luxury, but he was just a bartender, serving up drinks and good looks. Weekends didn’t exist for him.

“You doing okay?” the other bartender, Christophe, asked him.

“Yeah,” Victor replied. Most people asked for shots, which took seconds to make, nothing too extravagant. These people had a goal, and it was to get wasted as fast as possible.

At the end of the bar sat a group of people in business suits. It was pretty common to see office workers, the bar a short distance away their workplace. The group seemed larger than usual, the dark-haired chatterbox laughing away like usual, the cheerful-looking blond, the broody-looking brunette who seemed to always stay near a dark-haired woman – his sister, Victor thinks – as well as the younger-looking couple that always had their hands on each other. There was also another man: dark hair with glasses, who Victor hadn’t seen before, but he seemed to be content just sipping at his drink, observing the conversation between his coworkers.

As the night wore on, more and more people attempted to ride the mechanical bull. Unlike earlier, these people were already tipsy, barely able to hold onto the bull’s unforgiving body. Victor always had to stifle his laughter: his job was hard and demanding, often without much reward, but seeing drunk people making complete fools of themselves was _always_ worth the pain.

He noticed the group of office workers becoming rowdier and rowdier with each round of shots, which he expected. It wasn’t much of a surprise: they come here so often, he already remembered what type of drunk each person was.

The new guy though… _that_ he was curious about.

Glasses-man started talking more after about three shots, was talking a million miles an hour at five, and then he was laughing like a fool at six. When he did his eighth shot hours later, he was loosening his tie and standing on the table, dancing along with the music pulsing through the speakers.

Victor couldn’t believe his eyes. This was going to be a _very_ interesting night.

“ _Yuuuuuurrrrriiiiiii!_ ” Dark-haired Chatterbox slurred. “Y-you should try the bull!”

“The _hwaaaaaaa_?” Glasses-man – was his name Yuuri? – asked.

“The buuullll!” Dark-haired Chatterbox laughed, then he stood up, wobbling slightly. Yuuri somehow got off the table without cracking his head open, and Victor watched as the pair stumbled towards the mechanical bull.

“What are you looking at?” Victor heard Chris ask beside him. “You look the happiest I’ve seen you for years.”

Victor nodded his head towards the direction of the bull. “Those two. The guy with the glasses? Absolutely _wasted_.”

“How wasted?”

“Dancing-on-top-of-tables wasted.”

“Oh, this is going to be _fun_ ,” Chris snickered beside him, but just then someone yelled for a jaegerbomb, which Chris worked on immediately.

The last person fell of the bull, rolling on the ground in drunken stupor as she laughed. Yuuri climbed onto the bull, then Dark-haired Chatterbox started it.

The bull started bucking around, trying to fling Yuuri off of it. But miraculously, it seemed as if he was holding on effortlessly, whooping and laughing as he flew up and down in the air. After a short while, he even took his hands off, holding onto the bull with just the strength of his thighs.

Victor stared. This guy must have the leg and core-strength of a God to hold onto the bull like that. Were those slacks hiding muscled thighs? Was Yuuri the type of drunk to take his pants off? Victor would _kill_ to have a look at those thighs.

“Yeeeaaaahhh!” Dark-haired Chatterbox cheered, filming the entire thing on his phone. Even when wasted, he always knew when to whip out his phone to film the best moments.

Victor really didn’t think Yuuri would last any longer on the bull, nor did he think that anything crazier would happen.

He was about to be proven terribly wrong.

In the blink of an eye, Yuuri jumped up, and suddenly he was standing on the bull. _Standing_. It didn’t even seem like he was struggling, riding the bull like a surfboard.

As if that wasn’t enough, he started _dancing_ on it. He jumped again and landed on the bull each time, strutting along the back of it like a treadmill, a huge smile on his face he entire time he was doing this.

If Victor didn’t believe in a god before, he definitely did now. God was in the form of a wasted, dark-haired man with glasses who was dancing effortlessly on a mechanical bull. The raw power emanating from the scene alone affected Victor deeply, and he was sure he’d be dreaming of this over and over again for _years_. Hell, it might even be his last thought, when he’s on his deathbed. He’ll die with the image of a man dancing on a bull guiding him to the afterlife.

Eventually Yuuri hopped off the bull, stumbling slightly as he landed, and he immediately made a beeline towards the bar. He slammed his hand down on the surface, and Victor swallowed. If he was asking for another drink, Victor would probably dilute it in secret, because he _really_ didn’t want anyone dying of alcohol poisoning on him.

“Didja see that?” he exclaimed, pointing his finger in the direction of the bull. Victor nodded.

“Pretty cool, yeah?” he continued. “Did I impress you?”

“Huh?” Victor asked, feeling his cheeks burn. Sure, Yuuri seemed very shy whenever he ordered a drink from Victor earlier when he was sober, but Victor had just attributed that to his personality. He didn’t think that Yuuri was…well.

“Did I? Impress you?” Yuuri repeated, leaning on the counter, shoving his face closer to Victor’s. He could smell the alcohol on his breath, see the bright red flush on his sweaty face.

“Well, I don’t think there’s a person here who you _didn’t_ impress,” Victor laughed. “But to answer your question: yes, I was _very_ impressed.”

“ _Yes!_ ” Yuuri screamed, then he grabbed Victor’s face. Usually when a customer did that, Victor would be calling security, but this was Yuuri, so it’s okay.

“I’m so glad it worked!” he laughed. “D-do you know? How hot? You are? The rumours were true!”

“The what now?” Victor screeched. He had no idea what was happening.

“The hot bartender who works here!” Yuuri laughed. “I’ve been wanting to impress you all night! I’m so glad it worked!”

For once, Victor was speechless. Yuuri’s eyes were sparkling in the flashing, colourful lights, turning them into rainbow colours that Victor got lost in.

“Yuuri – oh my God!” a voice suddenly yelled. Someone pulled Yuuri off Victor amid the drunk man’s protests, Victor still frozen as his brain struggled to make itself run again.

“I’m so sorry about him,” the person said. The blond man, Victor realized.

“It-it’s fine,” he said, his voice slightly strained. “This kind of stuff happens pretty often.”

“Still, that was embarrassing,” the blond continued. “I had no idea he would be an insane drunk…”

“Well, now you know,” Victor laughed, the blond man responding in like.

“It’s getting late, so we’ll get going,” he said, slinging one of Yuuri’s arms over his shoulders. “Good night! We’ll probably see you soon.”

“Hope to see you all again!” Victor waved, watching as the group stumbled out the doors.

“Bye! I love you!” Yuuri yelled before he was shepherded out the door, and Victor’s mouth went dry.

It wasn’t until late into the night, when he was finally in bed, when he realized he didn’t get Yuuri’s number.

//

“Hey, Yuuri…”

“If you’re asking me to get drinks with you again, the answer is no,” Yuuri replied before Phichit even asked. He woke up the next morning to a pounding hangover with no memory of what happened the night before. However, Drunk Phichit somehow managed to record his humiliating drunken fiasco at the bar.

Including how he grabbed the hot bartender’s face and yelled at him.

“But we had so much _fun_ last week!” Phichit protested. “And besides, hot bartender seemed to really like you…”

“Who in their right mind would like someone who yelled at their face?” Yuuri groaned. It wasn’t a secret that the hot bartender was…really hot. Hair so light coloured it looked silver, blue eyes that looked like endless oceans. Yuuri was already a goner at first sight.

He’d been planning to drink just a little, to muster up the courage to strike a conversation with the bartender, but of course he just had to get absolutely _wasted_. Silently, he thanked his dance training for giving him strong legs; he would’ve flown off the mechanical bull in five seconds otherwise.

“Look, I talked to him last night, and he kept asking about you every. Single. Second,” Phichit emphasized. Yuuri sighed.

“Maybe he wants me to apologize or something…”

“Look, it seems like he _really_ misses you. Please?” Phichit begged. “Do it for Hot Bartender.”

Yuuri bit his lip. It was a bad idea to go back. He should never set foot in that bar again, and pray he _never_ runs into Hot Bartender ever in his life.

But the truth was, he _really_ wanted to see him again.

“Fine,” Yuuri said. He had no idea what was going to happen, but he would take the bull by the horns.

No pun intended.

//

Hot Bartender was already hard at work when Yuuri entered the bar, and he didn’t seem to notice their group take a seat near the end of the counter.

They sat there for some time, but Hot Bartender still didn’t notice them.

“Yuuri,” Phichit said, “you should go to him.”

“What?”

“Just go, casually ask for a drink, get his number, you know,” he said nonchalantly, like it wasn’t hard to do. Of course, for most people it probably wasn’t, but Yuuri wasn’t most people. He always had to psych himself up for a phone call, and presentations always took at least a month of mental preparation. He even has to practice what to say to the cashier at the grocery check-out. Asking for a hot person’s number was something that happened in Yuuri’s wildest imagination.

But he steeled himself, Phichit giving him a supportive pat on the back, then he made his way to Hot Bartender. He couldn’t believe he was doing this.

Hot Bartender must have heard someone approaching, because he immediately turned, saying “What can I get for you – “

When his eyes met Yuuri’s, he stopped talking, and his mouth broke out into a huge heart-shaped smile. A _heart-shaped smile_. Yuuri was already a goner, but just this detail alone just made him pass the zone of no-return.

“Oh! It’s you again!” Hot Bartender said happily, leaning against the counter.

“Y-yeah,” Yuuri mumbled. “Sorry about last week.”

“No, it’s totally fine!” Hot Bartender responded, not a touch of hostility in his voice. “It was probably the most fun I’ve ever had at work.”

“Really?” Yuuri asked, and Hot Bartender nodded.

“Yep! That was _amazing_ though – I’ve never seen someone dance on the bull before.”

“Oh God…” Yuuri groaned, putting his head in his hand. He heard Hot Bartender laugh, the small sound cutting through the loud music of the bar, clear as a bell.

“I get it, I get it, it’s probably a bit embarrassing,” Hot Bartender said. “How about a drink on me? Anything you want.”

If Yuuri was a rational human being, he would order something non-alcoholic, lest he repeat the same situation as last week. But he was so shocked by the offer, he blurted out an answer before he even had time to think.

“White Russian,” he said, and Hot Bartender’s eyes widened with amusement.

“Huh,” he laughed, then got out the bottles. “Good choice.”

“Why?” Yuuri asked, confused.

“Well, funny coincidence,” Hot Bartender said. “I’m Russian.”

“Oh…I didn’t realize…” Yuuri squeaked, feeling his entire face burn. Of course he was Russian.

“Your name is Yuuri, right?” Hot Bartender suddenly asked, and Yuuri nodded in surprise.

“How did you know?”

“Oh, I heard your coworkers yelling it last week,” he explained. “My name’s Victor, by the way.”

“Victor,” Yuuri replied. Hot Bartender was no longer Hot Bartender.

He watched as Victor made the drink, maybe with a bit more flair than usual, and he set it in front of Yuuri with a square napkin underneath.

“Ah, I have to go now,” Victor said, smiling apologetically. “Lots of customers tonight.”

“It’s okay, I understand,” Yuuri said. “I don’t want to keep you from working.”

Victor laughed, threw Yuuri a flirtatious wink, then stepped away to help the next person. He had to practically tear his gaze away from Victor, his heart beating erratically because of that wink. As he lifted the drink to his lips, he discovered something written on the napkin:

_XXX-XXX-XXXX ;)_

The week after, Yuuri had another White Russian, but this time it was in his bedroom under the covers.

**Author's Note:**

> scream at me on [tumblr](http://domokunrainbowkinz.tumblr.com/)


End file.
